Please. If you read one thing on my blog, make it be this one. People don’t understand just how big of an impact they have. Yes, we are all small compared to universe. When did we decide our problems matter? When we found out that our problems affect others. Every decision we make in our lives…
There’s a premise in my heart, a prose piece written by pieces of me that stems from the dark.
Anger, greed, contempt, doubt circumvents through the vents to my ear.
Fear of mediocrity bulging in vascularity. As a minority, living through poverty - my heart’s ambition is to get my fam out of this dam.
Battered ink fused with blood, writes the tall tales of my short stories.
Follow me through each chapter as I rip the net like carter
Em said “sometimes it feels like the worlds on my shoulder,” bolder words like a boulder on my back.
Kneed around like a fucking hackey sack,
But tell ya what, ima hit you with these hyperbolic synergies
Bit the tail of a rattle snake cause that B annoyed me,
Rattling like a featherweight,
Ima knock this prose off with pro-verbs
Skipping, swimming, slithering, sliming, scribbling, scrolling up and down the page,
Mental rage, I’m tired of these fuckers tryna pucker me up and use me like a condom.
Throwing a tantrum in a state of doldrums, banging the head of Barbie dolls on a plastic drum.